


Episode 58: The Point of No Return

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [58]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "I keep telling myself I'm ready, that I've had time, but I'm not sure.." ~ ?It's time to make contact, and though they'd all like to say they're ready... a thousand years' worth of emotion isn't something you just let go of.
Series: Clan Meso'a [58]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 58: The Point of No Return

Aviila turned off the cockpit lights and locked the door as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. Jecho, pouring powdered ka’hast into a mug of steaming water, took a hasty swig of the partially stirred mixture and set it to the side.   
“Make sure Cara is up,” Aviila said over the intercom.   
“Will do,” Jecho replied into the mic as she passed.   
Aviila checked the status of the frontal shields before un-muting her end of the ongoing call with Teno’kaan.   
“Ras’baal’ta?” she asked, watching the feed for someone to enter into range. [Can you (all) hear me?]  
“Nas’baal’ta, ner’ad,” replied Koucitesh as she and the other Alor appeared around the miniature holotable. [We hear you, daughter.]   
“Jecho a Cara?” asked Palouta. [Jecho and Cara?]  
Aviila nodded over her shoulder, “Cara we’ne.” [Cara sleeps]  
“Nuk.” [Good].   
She sighed, rolled her shoulders, and flexed her fingers.   
“Nervous?” Falkit asked.   
Aviila nodded, “It has been a long time.”   
“Since?”  
“Since I met with outsiders. Real outsiders,” she clarified, scanning the stars as though danger was just out of sight.   
No one else spoke for a moment, not even Alor Yaun. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular, not that it’s easy to track the gaze of a Nautolan, but it was clear he was deep in thought.   
“Xoto?” Doaxa prompted him with a soft hand on his.   
He did a sort of nod or a jolt from his thoughts.   
“Le,” he replied distantly, “Puk al’soah.” [Yes. My heart is heavy with words]  
She nodded knowingly and took his hand properly between hers. Beside her, Teya was nervously chewing the inside of her cheek; Koucitesh reached out and patted her shoulder jovially.   
“What do you have to worry about?” she asked.   
Teya blinked, “Are you serious?” She looked around at her peers, “We’re making history and you’re not the slightest bit afraid?”   
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Kore from her seat in the first row beside Kuntz, “I think we all imagined this day differently.”   
“Ka’xul ak’aan, nuk ak’aan,” murmured Dedel. [lit. “fire-spirit war, good war” or “the fiery plague of good war”; colloquial; “mighty battle”]  
“A plague of war? Just what we need,” Teya said, rubbing her temples.  
“No one expects you to fight,” said Palouta, giving her another one of his dark glares.   
“Hehe well,” she smiled, “At that point I wouldn’t have a choice, now would I?”  
Ra’ec smiled behind his hand, then wiped it off his face and cleared his throat when Palouta glanced back at him.   
“So you’ve been practicing with those weapons we sent you?” asked Alor Yaun.   
Teya flushed, “Well I wouldn’t say that, but yeah I take them off their stands every once in a while.”   
“I’ve invited her for training sessions,” added Doaxa before Palouta could retort, “and she holds her own well.”   
“Against your guards?”   
“Against me.”   
“Huh,” said Falkit, crossing his arms, “That’s high praise.”   
Teya smiled and turned up her nose; Palouta glared at her.   
“We’d be happy to have you at our side, Teya,” said Koucitesh with a nod, “and you,” she added, returning her attention to Aviila, “Once you’re back home.”   
Aviila smiled distantly, “I thought I was.”   
“And you will be again,” said Alor Yaun, taking his hand from Doaxa and typing in a series of commands to the console.   
On Aviila’s end, a line of text projected itself beside the image of the council.   
“When you’re ready,” he said.   
Aviila stared at it, hesitation gluing her arms in place. It was the command she hadn’t been dreading necessarily but one that she knew was fraught with uncertainty. She kept reminding herself that uncoupling the two Clans was a good thing, that nothing beneficial --at the moment-- came from contact with their fellow mando’ade. Still, a part of her wanted to dismiss it, turn the ship around, and take them back. If only the future where the Ordo uncovered the secrets of the ship weren’t so terrible then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to go home and forget this ever happened. She could keep Cara with her, keep her with the Meso’a, and raise her to be like them. But Jecho? Would she re-adjust from being this close to seeing her friends again? Don’t be selfish, Aviila chastised herself as she tapped the holographic prompt. 

Jecho took a deep breath and crossed her arms behind her back. Cara sat on a crate beside her in the hallway, padding her feet in the air and tapping her fingers on the crate’s hard shell. They could just make out Aviila’s conversation with the council but the sound of their own palpitations drowned out much of the ship’s idle sounds. This is it, thought Jecho, biting her lip. I hope Beon is with them, thought Cara, now idly twirling one of Tavut’s braids between her fingers. They heard the sound of metal tapping against metal and perked up just as Aviila opened the door. She startled, then laughed:  
“I see you’re awake and ready!”   
Both nodded.   
“You have your instructions Jecho, and Cara you are to follow her lead,” she continued, “You’re aware of how delicate this situation is, right?”  
Both nodded again. She blinked.   
“Right,” said Jecho quickly.   
“Right!” said Cara enthusiastically.   
Aviila continued to stare at them. “I think we should sit down for a moment.” She guided them out into the atrium and sat them down on the lounger.   
“I’ve had time to practice my part,” Jecho began as she took her seat.  
“We won’t tell them anything,” added Cara.   
“That’s not going to be easy when facing your friends,” Aviila shook her head, “Lying to those you love is hard. Besides, there’s protocol for this. It is infrequent, but we have returned foundlings before. Mostly in cases where their families are still looking for them or are otherwise unsuited for Clan life.”   
Cara’s shoulders drooped; Aviila smiled warmly.   
“I’m not talking about either of you, just explaining that we have ways of dealing with this.”   
“I know,” said Cara, feeling as though Aviila was just being nice for her sake.   
“But will this be enough?” Jecho asked, “Is there really a way to truly protect Meso’kaan?”  
“There is,” Aviila affirmed, “And I know you can do it. For thousands of years, no unvetted outsider has set foot on Meso’kaan due to our careful and proactive efforts to keep our people safe. Though our belief in Kad unites us, our belief in each other does not. With that in mind, we cannot allow the other clans to know of our location or existence. Some have discovered our endeavors and therefore had to be silenced. We are not above protecting ourselves and our Eastern brethren from the eyes of the galaxy. Every Mando’ade, every Enad, every outsider we employ, and every transient allowed passage into our system knows this. They know our wrath is swift and decisive; they know our hand is firm and unyielding. Be Haria Enad. So says Father Kad.” 

“This is really it, then,” said Jecho as she watched the holotable light up, “We’re going home.”   
Cara hugged her arms against her chest, waiting for the inevitable rush of seeing Fent and Beon again. Jecho felt fear, Cara a nervous excitement; Aviila returned to the cockpit to monitor the call and the council out of sight. It didn’t sit well with her to leave the stars unobserved for too long.   
“Are you ready?” asked Aran. He was projected alone in a private call to the ship, meaning Etima was busy elsewhere.   
She shook her head, “Are you?”  
He shook his. “But,” he added, “I’m only a jump away.”   
She nodded and took a deep breath, “Kad ta’ven’set’tik.” [Kad will protect me.]   
He studied her for a moment; she forced a smile.   
“P’tal’toch, Aviila,” he said after a moment, making to end his side of the call. [Come home, Aviila.]   
She didn’t reply, choosing to let the relative silence of the cockpit wash over her.


End file.
